A Mother's Gift
by MizBizSav
Summary: ONE-SHOT: When a certain day arrives, can Chloe get through the grief that comes with it? Or will a particular werewolf have to step in to alleviate the pain?


**A/N: Yay! A new story- finally!**

**I apologize that this is soooo late- yes, it takes place on Mother's Day. I actually didn't start writing it until the day of Mother's Day, but, it's still really late and that is no excuse. (And, if you have read any of my other stories, especially if you have read my other Darkest Powers one, I WILL be updating that soon. I'm sorry for not updating sooner!). But, you know what- better late than never, right?**

**For this to fit in with the timeline of the books, this would have to take place a year after "The Reckoning" ends. :)**

**And please, _please _tell me if Derek is OOC- he got a little "off" at the end. But, hey, a lot can change in a year. :)**

**One more thing- this was my first time EVER composing a kiss scene, so some critique would be nice!**

**Thanks for viewing! :D**

**Disclaimer: Just so no mobs show up at my doorstep, I do NOT own the Darkest Powers trilogy.**

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><p><em>Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky...<em>

The elegant ballerina spun gracefully on her tiny stand, creating a magical performance for all to admire... or maybe just myself. Sitting alone in a dark and damp attic was not how I had initially planned to spend my day, but it was how I would have to. I couldn't go back downstairs without feeling humiliated, without letting down Aunt Lauren. She'd be disappointed... so disappointed...

A single teardrop fell from my face, landing on the ballerina's sparkling pink tutu, staining it. Her twirling came to a stop, and I quickly wound her back up, the music drowning out my sadistic thoughts raging of grief. The sadness inside only echoed, as if I was hollow, empty. I placed a cold hand on my chest. It was thumping, moving up and down, up and down, yet my mind contradicted this. How could I love someone that only existed in my dreams?

Today was Mother's Day. A day of appreciating your mother as she cared and nursed you into adulthood. On this day, you were suppose to do everything for your mother; finish your chores without being asked, attend to every single one of her needs, bake melting chocolate chip cookies with smiles and laughter. It was presumed to be a day of respect, warmth, and most of all, love... yet it was the day I dreaded most each year.

My mother died when I was five from a brutal car accident. In a split second, the one who I loved most was taken away from me, gone into the afterlife. Now all that is left are memories, and few at best. With every day that passes, my memory gradually fades, until eventually there will be nothing left. My mom's shiny blonde hair growing gray; her features becoming just another face in the crowd. It's all too scary to dwell on, which was why today had become so depressing.

I still contemplate why this year was the worst. Previously, the day never struck as out-of-the-ordinary. No prolonged periods of crying; no fancy music boxes to play with in the attic. I think it has something to do with necromancy, being surrounded by so much death all the time. But, I'm not a morbid person. I'm Chloe, the free-spirit determined to accomplish anything. Or at least I used to be.

Used to be. The past. This was suppose to be my normal now. Why did it feel so distant?

The dancer stopped once more, the air silent and still. I observed the ballerina closely, her features becoming clearer under my fixed eyes. She was beautiful, with an affectionate smile and warm chocolate eyes. Her glossy blonde hair was tied up with a loose, cherry-pink ribbon that matched her dress perfectly. Her posture was graceful, yet casual. Her miraculous beauty was effortless, stunning. I stared at her, immobile, completely lost in a trance. I was still in deep thought, entirely oblivious to my senses, when the door creaked open, a figure stepping inside the room.

"Chloe?" A voice reverberated from somewhere in the attic.

I jumped up, startled, the music box falling to the floor with a crash.

The person rushed over to my side, who I then recognized as Derek, his eyes a glowing green in the eerie darkness.

"I'm okay," I stated, already feeling the worry projecting off his skin. I leaned down and gingerly picked up the broken music box as Derek switched on the lightbulb.

Derek's face was flushed, his eyes traveling over every inch of my body, inspecting for any damage done by the smashing of the music box. "Are you sure? I've been so concerned, searching for you everywhere. I asked Lauren if she had seen you and-"

I cut him off. "I'm fine, Derek. Really. No cuts, no bites, no ghosts." _No mother..._

I fought back the tears behind my eyes, the urge to breakdown crying intensifying by the second. One tear slipped and I quickly wiped it away with my hand, not wanting to discourage Derek.

"Chloe?" he asked again, taking a step closer to me. The coldness of the attic slithered away from his presence and warmth filled its place. Still, it wasn't enough... it was never enough...

Finally, the tears broke their restraints, sliding down my face with mockery. They tumbled out with no hesitancy, like school kids racing to get the best swing on the playground. They streaked my face; the cool tears waving away Derek's warmth. I shook from the temperature; my heart freezing.

Derek placed a sturdy hand on my back and guided me into my seat once more, forcing me to sit. He muttered a few words, but they were obscure, my ragged breathing drowning everything else out. I lowered my head and placed my hands over my face, ashamed.

Derek crouched in front of me. "Chloe, what's wrong?" His words were saturated with concern. I shook my head, closing off any opportunities to talk about it. "Chloe, you have to tell me," He paused. "You can tell me." He tentatively removed my hands from my face, staring into my red, weary eyes. I sniffled, attempting to maintain a decent composure.

"I-I-I," My words were slurred, disabled to form properly. "W-w-well... it's Mother's day." I hid my head once more.

The tears trickled down my face, yet I couldn't feel them at all. I was suppose to be strong, powerful. I was a necromancer, the voice of the dead. But, I couldn't bring my mother back. No, she was gone forever.

Warm, rough fingers placed themselves on my chin, lifting it up. Derek gently smeared away the remaining tears on my face as he stared into my eyes, smothering grief displaying itself in his green emeralds. "I can't tell you that I know how you feel, Chloe."

I squinted my eyes. "How is that suppose to make me feel bett-"

"But, I can help you," With one hand still under my chin, he used the other to grab my hand. "Staying in the attic all day won't alleviate the pain." I glanced over at the shattered music box, the ballerina's face now battered and unknown. Her beauty was misplaced, never to be found again. Was that how I was acting? Could I truly repair my heart when I was so unwilling to pick up the pieces?

Derek took his hand off my chin and rested it carefully behind my back. He pushed me out of my seat and towards the front of the attic, disregarding my rejecting complaints.

"Derek..." I said, my face heating up. He loosened his grip. "I can't go out there. Aunt Lauren-"

He ignored me, guiding us to the door down from the attic. I tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he was much stronger. He shot me one last genuine look before opening the door.

He kept his hand securely on my arm as we came down the narrow, rickety ladder, his figure vigilantly placed behind me. As we came to the bottom, he released my arm and pulled up the ladder, locking away the reclusive attic. I stood there, staring at him, stubborn.

"Come on," he murmured, directing me down the hallway and into the kitchen. Aunt Lauren stood by the sink, washing the dishes most likely leftover from dinner-which I missed. At the thought of food, my stomach roared, protesting against the emptiness present inside. I glanced down at my rumbling stomach, praying that would be the main point of focus when Aunt Lauren eventually recognized my being. _Please, oh, please..._

Derek cleared his throat. I heard Aunt Lauren set down a plate as she turned around to look at us. After a couple of seconds passed, I daringly stole a peek at Aunt Lauren and immediately regretted it when her eyes daggered into mine. I quickly glanced back down. I could feel the heavy tension from the room resting on my shoulders, provoking me to speak up. I didn't.

The clock hung above the dining room table ticked continuously. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Derek broke the awkward silence first. "Chloe, I'm going out on the porch. When you get done, I'll be there, okay?" I nodded my head slowly.

Derek walked out of the room and I didn't wait until I finally heard the door slam to lift my head. Aunt Lauren's expression was disapproving; her lips slightly curved downward, her blue eyes dismal, her face solemn. She was going to be so dissatisfied...

I gulped and said, "Aunt Lauren, I-"

Suddenly, she rushed over to me, enveloping me in arms of warmth and tenderness. I warily placed my arms around her in response, confused at my current situation. My face was stunned as hers was filled with sorrow. I removed her arms from around my waist, breaking our close embrace.

"Aunt Lauren... am I missing something here?"

She wiped the tears from her eyes. "I was so worried... Chloe, don't ever pull something like that again."

My cheeks reddened. "I didn't know that it would hurt you that badly. I was just... because of my mom..." I tightly shut my eyes, fighting back the tears that were beginning to swell.

She pulled me to her again, my shoulder resting on her head. "Honey, I know. We all miss her. Sometimes I find myself reliving old memories of when we were just little kids, ignorant to the world, "A vibrant image burned in my head; Aunt Lauren and my mom playing together in their backyard, running like they were never going to stop, their breath tugging in and out, reminiscent of a slow steamboat. In my mind, their eyes were animated, engrossed, lacking knowledge of their future. I couldn't help but wonder if Aunt Lauren ever missed those times. Aunt Lauren waved away the taunting memories. "But, that only makes it worse. You have to let go, Chloe, you have to let go." She raised my head from her shoulder. She shook off the grief, then leaned down to my ear and whispered, "Now go have some fun."

Before I could question what she was saying, she took hold of my hand, which then became wet from her tears. She dragged me to the front foyer and pushed open the door, shoving me onto the porch. She hastily slammed the door in my face, completely discounting my ranting protests. I felt as if I was dealing with a young child, not a mature adult. Behind the glass she teasingly locked the door, flashing me one last smile and a quick wink before closing the blinds, leaving me trapped in the front of our house. I impatiently tapped my foot on the solid concrete, a long, heavy sigh escaping my lips.

"Someone's a little irritated," said a person jokingly from behind me. I didn't even have to see who it was; the sarcastic tone alone giving it away.

I spun around quickly, only to find Derek coming around the corner of the porch. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, because I just got locked out of my house."

Derek's lips twitched upwards as he moved closer to me, his hand reaching down to enclose my own. His green eyes sparkled and I could effortlessly point out a hint of playfulness to them.

He tilted his head until his lips neared my ear. His voice was hushed, as if he was afraid someone was listening in. "Consider it a good thing."

I raised my eyesbrows skeptically. "What does that mean?"

I felt him smile against my hair. "Why don't you find out?"

Suddenly, he grabbed both of my hands, wamth mixing with chilliness, and strolled nonchalantly off the porch and around the back of the beige house. Along the way we passed the cozy white swing, the cherry blossom tree just beginning to bloom, the birdfeeder that had gathered plenty of birds this month. The world whirrled by as Derek ignored my protests- yet again. Just as we were nearing the start of the forest, I stopped, causing our little journey to be put to a halt.

"Derek..." I said, gasping for breath. "You have to tell me where we are going."

"Can't. It's a surprise."

I lifted my head until my narrowed eyes were fixed with his. "Five minutes. That's all you get."

"And it's all I need."

Taking one last glance back at me before doing so, Derek rushed through the woods, pulling me along with him. The smell of pine trees blended with the dirt mixed into the air, creating a full, and rather strong, scent of the forest, something I hadn't been exposed to in a while. With my necromancer genes growing more powerful each day, and the risk of the St. Cloud corporation lurking by, I had kept myself as far away as I could. I had succeeded in this, too; the only exception being Derek's first Change when we moved to this house, but that was months ago and he could handle it just fine on his own. Derek knew I grew anxious around the forest, and he always left it at that... so why was he taking me in here today?

Tree limbs jumped out and grabbed my legs every few seconds, Derek snatching me back up from my stumble every time. Derek navigated through the forest with ease, dashing left and right and not thinking twice about his path. My brain stopped a couple times in amazement, although it was nothing I hadn't seen before. When it came to the forest, Derek's werewolf genes were in full control. And when we were in danger, instincts took over. He always described it as being a simple task, yet I still couldn't help but admire him for this.

After about five minutes of running- and falling- our trail led us to a tiny stream.

Derek's grasp tightened on my hand, as if he was afraid I would dart away. "Walk through it."

I shot him a puzzling look before stepping both feet into the cool water. My shoes immediately filled with the icy liquid and I rushed to the other side. Any more chilly encounters and I could very easily be mistaken for a popsicle.

Derek came trudging from behind, then while placing a hand on my back, guided me once again through the endless woods. I was about to suggest that we head on back before it got late, as the sky was now turning a crisp blue, when he reached out and pulled back a branch concealing my view. A gasp slithered its way out from behind my lips.

"Derek..."

He released my hand and I took a tiny step forward, although I was so stunned I felt as if my legs could go numb any second.

We were nearing the edge of a miniature cliff,- all of that walking must had taken us straight to the end of the forest- which overlooked the most beautiful, scenic sky I had ever seen. Colors were splashed randomly onto the horizon, yet they fit together perfectly, edging their way up until they met with the emerging glossy moon. Vibrant oranges and pinks. Stars waving hello. A tear trickled down my cheek.

I turned around to look at Derek with a smile plastered on my face.

"I'm guessing you like it," he asked guilelessly.

"Like is an understatement."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, like a child hugging their parent goodbye. He was warm, and finally the coldness I had been experiencing all day melted away. I hung on tight, as if this was just a dream and that he would vanish in midair any second. After about a minute passed, Derek gingerly removed my arms and directed me behind the corner of the cliff.

"There's more."

Bemused, I slowly stepped around a tree blocking my view.

A large blanket was spread out on the grass, a basket resting on top. A picnic. Derek had planned a picnic.

I sprinted to the blanket and flopped down on top. The blanket was as soft as a cloud and I felt as if I was floating. I removed my wet shoes, and I was filled with warmth once again. I ran my fingers through the damp grass, rubbing a single piece between two fingers. I bit my lip to keep from letting go and crying right there.

Derek snuck up from behind and sat on the blanket beside me. We were silent for a moment. Derek, probably at a loss for words. Me, trying to gain my composure. When I eventually did, though, I didn't speak. No, I _couldn't_ speak. My mind just couldn't wrap around what was happening. Nothing I could have said what had summed up how I was feeling.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, then closed it. Opened. Closed. Finally, I let a few words escape my lips, although they weren't what I had been preparing to say. "Aunt Lauren gave you permission to set this up?"

Derek glanced over at me. "She said it would be fine as long as we were safe."

_Safe? As in... oh no. She didn't think we- she didn't think we'd need-_

Derek noticed my expression and spoke quickly. "From the St. Cloud's."

My heart dropped as my face heated up to a bright red.

Fortunately, Derek changed the topic. "Lauren actually helped with getting everything I needed. I don't think I would have been able to finish it in time if it wasn't for her."

My mouth fell open. Aunt Lauren agreed _and _helped? I made a mental note to thank her later.

"So she's... _cool _with us now?" I asked.

"I think so. Just as long as I don't develop any fleas, we should be fine."

"And if you stay on your leash like a good puppy," I added.

He shoved me teasingly. I lost my balance and collapsed onto the blanket, trying to get in a couple breaths in between laughs. I reclined on the blanket until my breath returned and then sat up.

"I guess I deserved that," I said, wiping the dirt off my arms.

"No," Derek said, shifting closer. "You don't deserve any of this."

My eyebrows scrunched together. "What do you-"

"You've been damned to a life of death, Chloe. Corpses, ghosts. Hell, I was even worried about taking you into the woods, that a few dead squirrels would be just enough to send our date into morbid chaos," He shook his head reproachfully, closing his eyes as if he was in a trance, living out a horrible nightmare. "You're... you're breaking."

"Derek," I reached out and rested a hand on his forearm. "You don't have to go through this. It's fine, I'm-"

"I do. It's my responsibility."

He opened his eyes and forced a cold, hard glare in my direction. I withdrew my hand. My irritation grew, and I couldn't fight it back any longer. "Don't you dare think you are responsible for any of this! Not the Edison Group, not my necromancer genes, not my mother's... death." I held back the tears bubbling inside. The last word echoed in my mind, thrashing around until my head became sore.

The silence rang in my ears and fortunately, Derek spoke up. "But, I could have done something. I could have prevented all of this from happening today if I had just been supporting you, and-"

I raised my hands in frustration. "Yeah, today sucks. But, stop worrying about me... you need to worry about _you_," I leaned into his side. "I'm fine just where I am."

Derek raised his head higher. "So you're okay with your... life?" He said that as if it was venom and it stung to keep it hidden behind his lips.

"My _life_?" I let out a shaky laugh. Derek's emerald eyes filled with confusion. "Yeah, I don't have a mother. Yeah, I can't go to a regular school. Sure, I may not be normal. But, I have something every other teenage girl _can't _say they have," A pause. "An incredibly awesome werewolf boyfriend." A sigh of relief from Derek sent me laughing again.

I smiled and said lightheartedly, "And _you're _suppose to be the smart one?"

"Don't push your luck. This werewolf boyfriend is not afraid to bite."

He wrapped his arms around me and I pulled him into a hug. His figure enveloped mine and I grew lost in his scent. Earthy undergrowth. Crisp, clean air. My senses relaxed as the familiar smell saturated my entire body in comfort.

He released me and I sat with my legs crossed. "Thank you for this."

He turned his head in my direction. "For what?"

I raised my eyebrows as high as I could. "You're kidding, right?"

Derek shook his head modestly. "It was nothing," He glanced down at his fiddling hands, then back up at me. "You were just so depressed, and I wanted to do something to cheer you up, and I knew you were tired of being confined, and-"

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, cutting him short. At first, he was hesitant, confused, but he quickly learned my motive. He kissed me back, slowly, chastely. Our hands were entwined, melting together. We were in perfect sync, as if we had both been waiting for this moment all day. The world around me seemed to darken and fade into midair, and I was with him, _only_ with him, right where I wanted to be. Before the kiss could deepen, Derek pulled away and stared at me with eyes that sparkled with the moon's reflection. He gently brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, and I shivered from his touch. I reached up and lightly traced my lips. His taste still lingered on my mouth.

I reclined on the blanket with my hands latched behind my head, and soon Derek did the same. Derek's body grazed mine as he laid back, but he didn't react. We both knew we didn't need, nor want, physical attraction out of this relationship. Sure, it was nice, but we were so much more than that.

After a moment of silence, Derek said, "Your mother would be so proud."

And I gleamed. Because I knew she would.

As we rested below the sky, I thought about my mother. How she would make sure I was at ease at night, placing my special koala bear stuffed animal right at my side. How she would go out of her way to do anything for me. How she loved me. It was then that I realized I saw her in Derek.

I gazed up at the sky, which was now sprinkled with radiant stars. And as I thought about my mother, I _swear _I saw one wink at me.

I smiled, and then began to sing.

__Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky...__


End file.
